


A Symphony of Smiles

by CityofOlicity



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Humor, Domestic, Drabbles, Drunk!Felicity, Drunkeness, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Olicity Drabbles, Pregnancy, Smut, drunk!oliver, prompt fics, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityofOlicity/pseuds/CityofOlicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I finally decided to create a home for all my Olicity drabbles. Here lies fluff, angst, humor, and maybe the occasional bit of smut, all featuring everyone's favourite Arrow and IT girl - Oliver and Felicity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Symphony of Smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the same Universe as, "Happy Birthday, Felicity", but by no means must you have read it.

“You didn’t have to do this, Felicity.”

He was perched on the couch, frowning down at a small, flat looking package, wrapped with bright green, polka dotted paper, that practically screamed Felicity. His brow was furrowed, mouth twisted down into a confused pout, as his eyes flicked up in a flash of pale blue to meet her own. Felicity shifted in her seat and clasped her hands together, lest she start fidgeting. Her eyes broke away from the magnetic pull of his own, skimming over the present in his lap, before darting back to her own fingers, which, to her dismay, had begun to twiddle, her index finger and thumb rubbing together in a move she seemed to have picked up from her husband. Clearing her throat, she shifted, anxiety beginning to worm its way into her gut to feed the butterflies that had already taken residence,

“I wanted to.” She replied, then rushed ahead quickly, noticing Oliver’s mouth opening, eyes flashing in a signature sign of protest. “Look, I know you didn’t want any gifts on your birthday, ‘nothing big’, right, I get that, I totally understand, but this isn’t big.” She paused, forehead furrowing to form a small dimple between her brows, which had Oliver’s lips twitching upwards, “I mean, it’s kinda big, but not in a ‘thousand dollar necklace’, way.” She winced, one hand flying up to finger the small silver arrowhead cradled beneath her collar, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that - I mean, I love mine, I just suck at making jewelry and I figure you have enough arrows right now,” She frowned, mouth puckering as she struggled to regain her train of thought, “Which..is totally not the point, because-” She was cut off by the low chuckle that rumbled from Oliver’s chest, chased by a small, endearing smile that curved laughing lips upwards and lit up bright, blue eyes. Felicity huffed, shaking her head and fighting the smile that tugged at her own mouth, “Just open it,” she sighed, waving a hand towards the gift.

“Right,” Oliver muttered, laughter tinging his voice as he moved to oblige, carefully unwrapping the fluorescent green paper with an infuriating precision that had Felicity clenching her fists and biting her lip, whilst her heart thudded noisily in her ears. Oliver ran a hand up the crease of the paper, carefully pulling it away from the object inside, before peeling away the sellotape. He traced calloused fingers up the side of the paper, smoothing it out, before finally pushing it to the side, to uncover the folded, bright white piece of cloth that lay beneath. Pale, questioning eyes flicked up, meeting Felicity’s own fluttering eyelashes and nervous gaze.

“Felicity, what-”

“Unfold it.” Her voice was tense and taut as a bowstring, filled with a nervous energy that seemed to encompass her entire being; fingers twitched, feet tapped, and all the while she watched, as Oliver unfolded the fabric, laying what seemed to be a tiny shirt out across his knees. It was fairly ordinary, with a round neck, short sleeves and plain white pattern, but it was the words splashed across its front that had Oliver’s breath choking off in a sharp gasp. Four words, twelve letters, that seared themselves into his brain and set his heart thundering in his chest. His head shot up, blue eyes wide and shining with the tears that threatened to spill down cheeks, slack with shock.

“You..” he wheezed, his mouth moving silently as he struggled for words, “We’re..” his hands shook, curling into the soft fabric of the little t-shirt, fingers tracing the words that echoed through his chest and filled his veins with joy, spelling out in dark blue, “My Dad Loves Me”. He swallowed, “You..”

“I’m pregnant.” Felicity whispered, gracing him with a shaky smile, which echoed in her eyes, glistening with unshed tears. As Oliver stared, a slow smile began to inch across his face, starting from his eyes, dancing with joy, moving down to his lips, which curved into a grin. Lower it sank, into his neck, down through his shoulders and into his chest, from which burst a bellowing laugh - not a huff, or a grumble, a full bellied, joyful laugh that echoed throughout the room, reverberating through his very soul. Felicity grinned, then shrieked as Oliver launched forwards, lifting her into his arms and crushing her to his chest, swinging her round, laughing all the while.  A giggle bubbled its way from her throat to join the melody that danced throughout the room, fluttering into corners, soon to be filled with toys, sweeping into future rooms, painted blue and pink and yellow, bouncing across spaces, yet to be occupied by wooden cots and soft mats. It careened off walls, twisting and twirling together in a joyous spiral that would later be joined by the sharp wail of a baby’s cry, the hushed whispers of murmured bedtimes stories, the babbling burble of a child’s laughter, and many, many more sounds that would soon add to the joyous refrain, a tune that began with the elated laughter of two people, as they spun about the room, content in the knowledge that, soon, the real music would begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from sentence-fragments:  
> "I'm pregnant"


	2. Tell me a Secret

“Tell me a secret.”

“Hm?” Oliver mumbled from where he sat, head lifting slightly from the cold metal of the rooftop door. His movements were slow, almost lethargic as his eyes dragged upwards to rest upon the woman who was sat, or rather, sprawled beside him, bare feet tangled with his own, whilst her head rested lightly on his shoulder. The crisp night air surrounded them, providing a refreshing relief from the hot, sweaty confines of the club below. It was as if a cool blanket had settled around the pair, muffling the outside world. The pounding bass of violent music seemed distant, shielded by the thick wooden door and the pleasant buzz of alcohol that hummed through their veins, thickening thoughts and loosening tongues. Though the outside world lay in wait, for now, it seemed held at bay by the quiet peace of companionship.

Felicity shrugged, managing to burrow further into his shoulder in the process. Her breath was soft against his collar, as she murmured,

“I don’t know, just tell me something.” She pulled back slightly, her face scrunching up, lips pouting adorably, “ I mean, I really don’t know that much about you, other than the fact that you’re incredibly warm and you may or may not be spinning right now.” Oliver gave a lazy smile and turned fully to look at her, his expression peaceful, relaxed, the ever-present worry lines smoothed from his face,

“Well, what do you want to know?” He replied, much to Felicity’s disgruntlement. A small, feminine finger prodded his chest lightly, and Oliver found himself entranced by the bright fuschia of her nails, stark against the faded green of his shirt.

“Nu-uh,” she slurred, pressing firmly against his sternum, “that’s not how this is works, buddy.”

“Buddy?” Oliver smirked.

“Shhh..” She waved a hand to silence him, forcing Oliver to pull back, lest she accidently take his eye out. “Just..you come up with something.” She relented, letting her hand fall to rest back against his chest, directly above his heart. Her head fell back to settle against his shoulder; he could feel the tips of her tied hair brush against his neck with each breath and it sent a warm flood of something he couldn’t name through his chest.

“Okay.” His head tipped back against the door, eyes flickering closed. After a few moments of silent thought, he spoke,

“When I was a kid I learned to play the piano,” he said quietly, only to be interrupted by a frustrated groan from the woman beside him, causing his eyes to flick open, then narrow in confusion.

“Ugh,” Felicity moaned, “Of course you can play the piano, too, because that’s totally fair, on top of the abs and the arrowing and the business-running and the damn face.” Oliver chuckled low in his throat, the sound reverberating through their quiet sanctuary, vibrating through Felicity’s chest, pulling at her heart and lips, and sending the latter curving upwards in a reluctant smile.

“I was terrible, actually,” he replied, drawing a disbelieving snort from Felicity,

“Right, sure, you mean your idea of terrible.”

“No, truly. My tutor used to call me, ‘tonto torpe’’, that’s Spanish, for ‘clumsy fool’.” A fond smile traced itself across his face, “Apparently I couldn’t tell a D from a C if it jumped up and bit me.” Felicity’s brows hiked, eyes widening in a shock of bright blue dimming light,

“Seriously?” She questioned, head lifting from his shoulder to eye him suspiciously.

“Seriously.”

“I would never have guessed, what with your excellent motor control, I thought you’d have the fingers of a God. NOT that I’ve thought about that.” She spluttered, “I mean, I had, in the musical, arrow wielding vigilante way, like ‘Oh, Oliver must have good coordination’ way, not in.. _other ways_.” Felicity’s eyes rounded further, before her mouth clamped shut, bringing her to a strangled stop. Clapping two hands over her face, she sank down against the door, letting out a muffled groan. “Why must my mouth betray me like this?” Came a low mumble from the floor. Oliver bit his lip, tensing his stomach and trying to prevent the laughter bubbling to the surface, but before long his shoulders were shaking, breath coming out in small, quiet huffs that perforated the silence of the night, and had Felicity’s head shooting up, eyes narrowed in a glare. She slapped him lightly.

“Hey, it’s not funny! Not all of us can pull of the whole stoic, brooding thing; some people have difficulty controlling their tongues. I mean, obviously not you, in fact I’d say you have a little too _much_ control, sometimes.” Oliver tensed, his brows shooting skywards, but Felicity barrelled on, “I wasn’t talking about your kissing skills! No they were, yup, they were great, top notch, really, A-plus on that.” She took a deep breath, centering herself,  “What I meant was..what I mean is..what I’m saying is-” She was cut off as another deep, rumbling laugh burst from Oliver’s throat before he could stem it, sending him tumbling back against the heavy door with a thunk. Felicity threw her hands up in defeat, muttering, “I give up.” With that, she receded in on herself and sank further against the door, face burning. Finally managing to pull himself up off the door, Oliver turned to see Felicity curled up, blushing face hidden under a tangle of beautiful blonde curls.   
“Hey,” he murmured, sliding closer to her, hands coming up to rest against her shoulders. She wriggled slightly and he heard a muffled protest, before strong arms crushed her against his chest, “I find it endearing.” He felt a small snort of disbelief from where she lay, curled up in a rigid ball of embarrassment, though her posture had begun to soften slightly, cold feet unclamping and beginning to slowly press back against his thighs, seeking warmth. “It’s all part of your charm,” he continued, feeling her begin to relax slightly. Her face lifted, revealing a small smile framed by reddened cheeks, mere inches away.

“My charm?” She whispered.

“Your charm.” He replied, “You, Felicity Smoak, are a catch.” Felicity’s head dropped back to lean against his chest and she sank into his embrace, mumbling,

“Go on,”

Oliver chuckled and pulled her closer. She curled against him, a small smile still lifting her lips as she listened to him murmur sweetly against her hair, listing all the many things he loved about her. Into the night they talked, the peaceful calm of the rooftop filled with light laughter and soft speech. They lay, tangled together in the warmth of one another, as the slow whispers of dawn began to filter up from the horizon, streaking pale glimmers of light across drooping eyes and smiling lips. Though the world dragged on around them, for now, they reveled in the tranquil bliss of the dawn, content to lay just a little longer away from the world, as long as they were together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't my favourite piece of writing, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. The prompt was,  
> "Tell me a secret" from Redpendreaming  
> 


	3. "Have you lost your damn mind?"

“Have you lost your damn _mind_?

“Felicity..”

“ _No_. No fracking way Oliver. I will track down psychos for you, I will work long nights with you, and, yes, I will occasionally jump out a window with you, but there is _no way_ , I am _ever_ getting on that death trap.” She finished, gesturing somewhat violently towards the ducati upon which Oliver was currently leaning - all too attractively, she might add. His elbows rested on the seat, ankles crossed before him in a way that had her blood boiling. His head tilted towards her as he gave her a hard look, eyes smouldering, his brows pinching together to form a small, incredibly sexy V above his eyes that had Felicity biting her lip. She shook herself. _Pull yourself together, Smoak._ She was supposed to be frustrated with him, not lusting over him like a horny teenager.

“Felicity, I’m not letting you walk home at this hour, in the _Glades_.”

“I’ll take a cab,” She retorted, head tilting forwards, arms folding and pulling tight against her chest in a physical barrier against him.

“And how do you plan on catching one at this time of night?” He replied, finally allowing Felicity the barest of reprieves from his charms by lifting himself from where he leant against the bike, and slowly walking toward her. He moved with the feline grace of a panther, each stride rippling fluidly into the next, his steps almost silent, as if stalking his prey. Felicity gulped. _Nope_ , this was definitely worse. Though her thoughts were becoming decidedly more scrambled with each passing breath, she struggled on, loath to give in just yet.

“Oliver, need I mention the statistics of motorcycle crashes vs cars or buses? Because I will pull  them up right now. And plus, there’s all those scary helmet cam videos of bike accidents. I mean, not that I think you’re going to crash, it’s just I don’t trust the bike, those things are awfully-”

“Felicity.”

Her mouth snapped shut with a click, as she tried to restrain her inner-monologue. Which was suddenly a whole lot easier, now that he was mere inches away - the sharp intensity of his striking blue gaze burning all thoughts from her mind, leaving her breathless and more than a little flushed. His head slowly tilted to the side, one eyebrow hiking slightly and.. _oh no_. She knew what was coming, and god help her if she could resist Oliver Queen when he got that look in his eyes.

“Do you trust me?”

And there was the kicker.

“Always.” It sprang from her mouth, unbidden, an instantaneous truth that resonated in her very soul. He smiled, a small twitch of his lips - barely noticeable, but for the way it sparked a flicker of mirth that lit in his eyes.

“Then you know I’ll keep you safe, Felicity. Always.”

She felt the words slam into her like a blow, bringing her heart stuttering to a stop, before it launched back into motion, a racing beat that pounded against her chest, as if trying to break free and reach its true owner - the man standing a few feet before her. She felt it. The solid, sure trust that echoed in her chest - the certainty that he would never harm her, would always be there -  and she knew she was done for.

“Fine.” She snapped, quickly brushing past him, lest she catch a glimpse of the infuriating smirk she just _knew_ was painted across his face. She flounced over to stand before the dreadful thing, her gaze flickering over its solid black surface, lingering on the worn leather of the seat, faded from its many vigilante adventures - she swore she could see the distinct mark of a bullet hole. Deathtrap, indeed. A brief flash of heat at her back let her know he had followed, but she wasn’t expecting the hot brush of breath against her ear, nor the coarse whisper of stubble against her cheek, as he huffed out a fierce,

“Thank you.”

As quick as he appeared, he was gone, moving to pull a helmet from the bike, leaving Felicity standing motionless, and thoroughly incapable of coherent thought. He returned, and held the helmet out to her. She glared at it resentfully for a few seconds, before relenting with a quiet mutter of,

“Infuriating man.” It slipped over her head easily, as if fit specifically for her - and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had indeed bought it with her in mind. The thought sent a spike of something through her chest, which she quickly shoved down. It was bad enough having to practically straddle him, without feelings being added to the mix. By this time, he had climbed on to the bike, and was looking at her expectantly - or at least, she assumed, she couldn’t tell since the tinted visor was already covering his eyes. Felicity scrambled, rather inelegantly, onto the seat behind him and hesitantly wrapped her hands round his waist, sucking in a sharp breath as warm fingers met cold leather, and soft curves met hard muscle.

“This is the part where you tell me to hold onto you tight, right?” She couldn’t fight the small quiver that shook her voice, nor could she deny that it wasn’t entirely due to nerves. A small chuckle rumbled through his chest, which she felt shudder across her hand, his abdominals clenching delightfully against her palm. There was no way she was going to survive this. The thought was solidified in her mind when the bike roared to life beneath her, pulling a sharp squeak from her throat, and causing her hands to tighten against his chest. The movement brought her body flush against his own, molding to the hard lines of his back, her head resting on his shoulder. With a sharp rev of the engine - the _show off_ \- and a squeal of tires against tarmac, they were tearing off into the night.

The world whizzed by in a blur, blending into myriad flashing lights and whirling colors that danced before her eyes. Bursts of gold, silver, red and blue hurtled by in a stream of iridescent beauty that had Felicity gasping at the sheer thrill of it all. The wind whipped at her clothes and tore at her hair, but she clung tighter to Oliver’s form, feeling the solid warmth of his chest anchor her within this twisting, twirling world as it careened around her in a mad haze of activity. It was dazzling. As they sped through the city, she felt a laugh bubble up from her chest and burst from her throat, where it was quickly swallowed by the roar of the engine beneath her. Through the thin material of Oliver’s jacket she could feel his chest shaking with laughter that joined her own, as they revelled in the adrenaline that coursed through their veins like liquid fire.

All too soon it was over, the low rumble of the bike fading to a docile hum, as they slowed to a stop before Felicity’s building. The sudden silence brought into sharp focus the harsh pant of her breath and the rapid thrum of her heart as it pounded against her ribcage. She felt Oliver turn slightly to face her, his back pulling away in the process, and leaving her suddenly cold.

“Well..this is your stop.”

“So I should probably..” She trailed off, nodding her still helmeted head towards the complex

“Mhm..” His answer was faint, a mere whisper that hung upon the air and faded into the sudden hush that had descended.

Neither moved.

The silence ticked on, perforated only by the quiet purr of the bike.

“Y’know..I think I left my keys in the foundry, we might have to go back and grab them.”

“Yes, definitely.” His reply was swift, echoed by the wild roar of the bike as it thundered back to life. Felicity grinned, and Oliver promptly kicked the accelerator, once more launching them into the swirling lights of the city. Felicity’s grip tightened on his leather jacket, her thighs clenching around his own and her nails digging into his chest. And so what if, this time, her tight grasp had nothing to do with fear?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to aubvi for helping me drill this fic out. You are a wonderful human being and I love you. The prompt that inspired this was from Ugh-Olicity:  
> "Have you lost your damn mind?"


	4. Collisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gave a running hug to the wrong person at the airport and knocked you on the ground AU

She hadn’t meant to do it, she really hadn’t.

One moment she’d been sitting in the airport foyer, tapping idly away at her phone, waiting for Barry to hurry up and meet her, the next she’d been sprinting across the aisle, bags dropping unnoticed at her feet, hair whipping behind her as she ran towards the tall figure entering the waiting area. Had she given it a few more seconds, she might have noticed the distinct surplus of rippling muscle that, “Barry” had seemed to be packing, as well as the light grazing of stubble that dusted high cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. Instead, she was met with a rather shocking surprise in the form of solid, dense muscle that hit her like a brick wall, as she collided with a broad chest, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders, bringing her slamming against his torso with a muffled “oof”.

It took a few moments of tentative feeling (perhaps a little more than strictly necessary) for her to realise that. _.yup_ , this was definitely not Barry. In fact, the stiff figure to whom she clung was nothing like the lanky, paper-thin form of her best friend. He even smelled different - an intoxicating musk of leather and citrus  that enveloped her senses like a comforting blanket - no, not comforting,  _safe_  maybe, but there seemed the slightest hint of danger that crackled about his presence and  _oh good lord was she really sniffing him?!_  Felicity sprang back, releasing the not-Barry with a yelp that was quickly stifled by the hand that clapped over her mouth. Unfortunately, even that physical barrier couldn’t stop the barrage of words Felicity felt mounting in her subconscious, as she desperately fought to keep the ramble at bay. She could do this, she could. There was no way she was going to make an even bigger fool out of herself by unleashing her motor-mouth on the poor guy, not this time. She just needed to channel her inner Middleton - calm, collected, regal. She could do this, she..

Striking blue eyes slammed against her own with a startling intensity that knocked the breath from her lungs and sent her heart hammering against her chest, his piercing gaze burning away tenuous restraint she had on her mind. She had time for only one thought before the tsunami of words was upon her.

_Oh, frack._

“Oh god I am so sorry, I swear I don’t usually go around assaulting strangers -  _not_  that I was trying to assault you, I was actually hugging you, which I realise sounds odd because you don’t know me, and of course I don’t know anything about you - I mean, other than the fact that you smell  _really_  good. Not that I smelled you or anything, that would be weird. Okay you kind of smell like sex in a bottle, alright? Aaand now it seems like I’m coming onto you, I swear I’m not, though I did just hug attack you, but that must be a common occurrence, right? Girls throwing themselves at you? What with all the muscles, and the jawline and the face, I mean, had I not just completely embarrassed myself right now I would climb you like a tree - wait, no! That’s not what I..I wasn’t..I mean I didn’t…” By this point her breath was coming in harsh pants, her cheeks burning, and not just from the exertion of the epic word-vomit she’d just spouted. Her eyes flicked up to his own to find him watching her, lips twitched up in a smile, which, though small in size, seemed to spill brightness over his entire face, bringing a warmth to his hard exterior that radiated from his bright blue eyes and seeped into her bones, setting her heart fluttering once again. Felicity swallowed, her mouth moving soundlessly as she spluttered for breath - well, at least it kept her from talking.  _Damn him and his stupid face._

“What’s wrong with my face?” His voice was low and smooth, like honey over warm bread. He accompanied the question with a small quirk of his eyebrow, the movement almost distracting Felicity from the realization that she had said that  _out loud._

“Oh there is  _nothing_ wrong with your face.” She replied, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, nodding, “It’s a good face. Great, in fact. Well done, really, your parents should be proud. Congrats on the..” her voice trailed off as his smile grew, forming a small dimple at the corner of his mouth, whilst his head tilted to the side, eyes laughing. She gulped. “Face..”  

“Thank you?” He returned, his brow furrowing slightly, forming an adorable wrinkle above his eyes. How someone could switch so easily between panty-meltingly hot and squeal inducingly cute, she had no idea.

“You’re welcome.” She mumbled, dragging her eyes from his face to stare at the floor, hoping to God that it would swallow her whole.

“What’s your name?”

“Why, were you hoping to file a harassment claim?”

He chuckled low in his throat, a hearty thing that rumbled from his chest and did stupid, stupid things to Felicity’s chest. “No, actually, I was hoping to get your number.”

Felicity snorted, wrenching her gaze from the floor to direct him with a disbelieving look, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Right.”

“What? Is that ridiculous?” He countered, his voice smooth and confident, though his eyes flitted side to side, betraying a hint of what looked like..nervousness?

“I basically just attacked you, and then proceeded to verbally assail you with my awkwardness in what probably seemed like the worlds most painful attempt at a pick up line, and you’re asking me  _out_?”

“Yes.” He said simply, before his brow furrowed, turning unsure once again, “Unless the person you obviously mistook me for was your boyfriend?”

Felicity shook her head. Was this really happening? “Nope, no boyfriends here, nu-uh. I mean, not that I don’t do boyfriends, I’m not a lesbian or anything.  _Not_  that that’s a bad thing, just not  _my_  thing. That’s great, if you’re into it, I mean. I have this friend, Sara, who..” She faltered, then sighed, eyes flickering shut, “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

“Keep going, it’s cute.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. Whoever you are, you’re a breath of fresh air.” He paused, tilting his head towards her, blue eyes glinting under long lashes, “I’m just waiting for you to fill in the ‘who’, part of that sentence.”

Felicity shook herself, a small smile playing at her lips to reach the flush upon her cheeks, as she met his questioning gaze. “Felicity. Felicity Smoak.” She bit her lip and stuck out a hand, where it hung awkwardly between them.

“I’d think we’re a bit past a handshake, wouldn’t you say?” He teased, forcing an embarrassed laugh from her lips as he reached over, clasping her tiny hand in both of his own, the rough pads of his fingers scraping delightfully over the smooth skin of her wrist, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

After a few beats of silent staring, he prompted, “Well, Felicity Smoak, would you like to go out to dinner with me sometime?”

“Only if you promise to tell me your name; otherwise I’ll just have to stick with Not-Barry, or Sex-in-a-bottle, neither of which are particularly short.” She shrugged, unapologetic, “Both are pretty fitting though.”

He grinned, “It’s a deal”

“I don’t believe that’s a name” She said playfully, to which he instantly replied,

“Oliver Queen. Is that a yes?”

She grinned, her stomach doing that weird fluttery thing again. “I hope you know what you’ve just signed yourself up for, Mr Queen.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

 


	5. Kiss the Cook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at smut, so please be gentle with me!

Felicity awoke to the smell of burning. An acrid, bitter taste that scraped against her senses like sandpaper, dragging her into awareness. Slowly, she became aware of silky soft brush of fabric against her skin, the pillowing mattress that hugged her in a lover’s embrace, and the cool caress of air against her naked back. Cracking out a yawn, she stretched, feeling the dull throb of her muscles from the previous - somewhat acrobatic - night.  As she turned, the scent grew, tearing her further into unwanted wakefulness with all the grace of an elephant. With a groan she sat up, the duvet pooling around her waist and sending a shiver down her spine, as a cold breeze tickled against her skin. Turning to the expanse of sheets beside her, Felicity frowned, finding them empty, absent of her human heater - her boyfriend was useful that way. In the night he would draw her close to his naked chest, cocooning her in the warmth that seemed to radiate from his skin, his arms banding tight around her, shielding her from the outside world, safe in the comfort of his embrace. Of course, he was useful for other things, Felicity mused, her thoughts drifting to the passionate night before, the way he’d rolled atop her, dotting her neck with fervent kisses, before moving down to-

_What in god’s name was that smell?_

Curiosity finally peaked, Felicity dragged herself out of the bed, pulling on one of Oliver’s t-shirts, before slowly padding her way over to the door. As she drew nearer, the scent increased in ferocity, and Felicity began to make out muffled words.

“Shit!” Came a forceful growl, the likes of which sent Felicity’s brain into involuntary overdrive, as she recalled that very same curse mere hours before, muttered into her skin between kisses. Mind out of the gutter, girl, she reprimanded. What if he was actually in trouble? Dragging her thoughts from the pleasantries of last night, Felicity carefully cracked open the door, peeking round cautiously. Upon observing the sight before her, she moved fully into the room, leaning against the doorframe, a wondrous smile fluttering upon her lips.

He was standing in the kitchen, bare chested, but for an apron hung loosely around his neck. Felicity had to stifle a giggle at the blocked text splashed across the front, proclaiming that she should “Kiss the cook”. Oh, would she ever. His brow, however, was furrowed in an irritable scowl, mouth turned down in frustration, as he nursed a pan, which from the looks of it, seemed to contain some kind of scorched mound of something that was perhaps once edible, now burnt out of existence. “Fuck!” He bit out, scraping a spatula over the blackened substance, and this time Felicity couldn’t help the giggle that burst from her throat.

“What are you doing?” She enquired, sidling further into the room to lean against the counter. Oliver turned to her, eyes flashing dangerously as they slid over her t-shirt clad form, before he slumped, their blue depths dimming slightly, as he gestured to the pan.

“I was trying to..” he made a motion to the bedroom, “I thought I would..” his head dropped, and he mumbled, “I wanted to surprise you.”

Felicity gawked. “Oliver, were you trying to make me breakfast in bed?” When he nodded despondently, she felt her chest warm with love.

“I was trying to make pancakes. Turns out it’s a lot harder than spit roasting.” He sighed again, a heavy thing that huffed from his chest in a sound that was far too dejected for this hour. “I’m sorr-” he started, only to be cut off as Felicity launched herself across the counter, intercepting him mid-apology with a heated kiss, her hands sliding through his hair, legs locking around his waist from where she now sat facing him on the counter. He paused for only a moment, before meeting her stroke for stroke, his own hands roving far and wide over her body. Their lips met over and over, reluctant to part as they shared one, two, three more kisses, before Felicity finally pulled back, leaving Oliver dazed and breathless.

“What was that for?” He panted, his hot breath brushing against her lips from where he hovered, mere inches away.

“Because I love you.” She replied, “And you’re adorable.” At the words, Oliver frowned, his brow once again forming that cute little furrow between his eyes, whilst their dark depths themselves screamed sin. God, how was this man even real? Her own eyes flicked to the mess he’d made on the pan, dragging her thoughts away from the Adonis before her, as she truly took in the havoc he’d wreaked. Had he..? Yes, yes he had. “And because of those things,” she continued, running a thumb over his jaw, “I’m going to ignore the fact that you tried to cook pancakes without a lubricant.”

“I thought lubricant wasn’t a problem with us.” He countered, leaning in for another kiss, his eyes dark and hungry. Felicity rolled her eyes, swatting him away one hand, the other perched on the counter as she hopped down,

“Oliver.” She reprimanded, and at her withering look, he stepped back, a smirk pulling at those sinful lips, arms folding over his broad chest in a way that _really_  wasn’t fair.

“You need to use some kind of non-stick substance, like butter or oil. That way the batter won’t stick and create..that..” she gestured to the sorry substance that still sizzled on the pan, exuding a nasty scent that was bitter to the taste.

“I don’t think that’s too bad..” he protested, only to be quickly silenced by another disbelieving stare from Felicity.

“It smells like someone died, and looks like you tried to cremate them.” She said dryly.

Oliver scoffed, “Well then, Miss chef extraordinaire, why don’t you show me how it’s done, since you’re so adept at it?”

Felicity smirked. “ Gladly. Get ready to have your mind blown, Queen.”

He leaned into her space then, both hands braced either side of her as his mouth descended to brush against the shell of her ear, hot breath hissing against her skin as his voice rasped, low and delicious, “You blow my mind nightly, Miss Smoak”

Felicity had to suppress the moan that begged at her lips, her breath hitching slightly instead at the warm brush of air that tickled her senses, whispering dirty things against her skin. Dammit Smoak, pull yourself together. She wouldn’t give in so easily. Pulling away from his intoxicating presence, she ducked quickly under his arm, darting over to the stove and pulling out a fresh pan to warm, before adding a generous dollop of batter to it’s surface - after adding olive oil, of course. As she became engrossed in the cooking, Felicity felt a pair of strong arms band around her waist, whilst a solid presence pressed against her back. A prickle of sensation against her collar evidenced his nose brushing against the fine hair at her nape.

“Oliver..” She warned, when he pressed a cool kiss to her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

“I’m just getting a better look.” Came his deep voice at her ear, chin resting against her shoulder, supposedly to watch her work. “I don’t want to miss..” he pecked another kiss against the smooth skin of her shoulder, lips sliding down to the juncture of her neck, “a single thing.” She sighed, her head lolling back to lean against his chest as he moved lower, nipping at the delicate skin of her collar, before soothing the sting with his tongue, dragging a contented hum from Felicity.

“Hmm..the pancakes will burn..” She protested weakly, all the while angling her neck further to grant his teeth and tongue better access.

“I’m not hungry anymore..” He growled, arms tightening against her curves, one hand sliding slowly down her body “for food.”

That was the breaking point. At his muttered words, Felicity succumbed, melting against his chest as his lips descended to latch onto her own in yet another heated kiss. At her surrender, Oliver let out a feral noise, turning her sharply, both hands gripping her ass to hoist her up onto the counter, knocking the pan from the stove in the process and prompting a startled squeak from Felicity, which quickly cut off into a groan as his calloused fingertips dragged down her thighs. Then, inch by inch, they slid up each supple leg, kneading the giving flesh in each hand as they went. As his hands did wonders below her hips, his mouth went to work at her neck, licking and sucking the sensitive skin beneath her jaw until Felicity was seeing stars. Blunt teeth nipped at her collarbone, and Felicity couldn’t bring herself to care for the marks he was leaving, in fact, a small part of her relished his show of possessiveness, as his teeth brushed across the soft skin between her breasts, his lips sucking yet another bruise into her skin. His hands slid up to grip the edge of her t-shirt, but she felt more than heard his muffled “Off”, his lips staying attached to her skin they skated further down her chest. Luckily, Felicity seemed to get the message, lifting her hands above her head and allowing Oliver to dislodge only long enough to whip the shirt from her body, before his lips dove back down to her now bare skin. He wasted no time in sucking one pebbled nipple into the warmth of his mouth, spurring a wanton moan from the woman now almost writhing beneath him. As he suckled on one, his hand moved up to roll the other between calloused thumb and forefinger, their rough surfaces sending shockwaves of pleasure shooting through Felicity, her head now thrown back, breath coming in short pants as she gave way to his ministrations. His other hand, now sliding slowly towards her apex, was her undoing. When one long finger sank into her entrance, she keened, head falling forwards against his shoulder, which only rocketed her pleasure higher when she opened her eyes to find a front seat view of his finger sliding in and out of her wet center. He added another, increasing the pace of his movements, and Felicity felt a slow tingling begin to burn her from the inside out. She was close now, and Oliver seemed to sense it, bracing one hand beside her against the counter, as his fingers pumped in and out of her with increasing rapidity. The pleasure built, climbing higher and higher, reflected in the high pitched mewls spewing from Felicity’s mouth, as she squeezed her eyes shut, revelling in the heady feel of his fingers pushing against her walls. In. Out. In. Out, until Felicity could barely take the pleasure building within her. When he crooked two fingers inside her, and his thumb found her clit, she exploded. Tendrils of pleasure whipped through her very core, ricocheting up through her spine, down her legs, until she was left limp and sated, sagging forwards against Oliver’s chest with a contented sigh. His hands slid up from between her legs, drawing her close to him as she slowly recovered her breath. As she gradually rose to awareness, Felicity noticed the rough feeling of cloth against her cheek, and frowned, sitting up to face him.

“You’re still wearing clothes.” She stated, glaring petulantly at the garish apron that shielded him from her eyes, her touch. He smirked.

**“** I am. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Gosh I hope it wasn't too bad. In any case, here's the prompt:  
> Yay for prompts! :D How about some cute domestic!olicity, like one cooking breakfast for the other? <3
> 
> A special thank you to aubvi for reviewing this and assuring me it wasn't awful. Love you!


	6. Altitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distantly, a part of Felicity recognised that she may or may not be panicking, whilst the other half of her subconscious seemed to be far too occupied with screaming, crying, occasionally praying, and pretty much doing every action possible to define the word ‘panic’.

This was a terrible idea.

Like, as far as ideas went, this one was about a nine on the crazy scale, and that was including that time she’d tried to make a rocket out of her Mom’s cleaning utensils.

_Why the hell am I doing this?_

That was the thought that kept yoyoing back and forth in her mind as she settled down atop the hard, metal ski lift, back resting awkwardly against the chair as she flailed her ski-clad feet in a futile attempt to get comfortable. How anyone got around in these things she had no idea - it was bad enough that Felicity had the balance of a baby deer, factor in three foot long skis into the equation and all in all this holiday was a disaster waiting to happen. One that would likely end with Felicity face down on a cliff somewhere with a mouthful of snow. And as her luck would have it, it would probably be the yellow kind.

Why, oh why had she let Sara talk her into this? Speaking of her buoyant blond companion, the culprit in question was nowhere to be seen, leaving Felicity shifting uncomfortably, a thin vein of panic worming its way into her gut as the lift descended towards the cliff’s edge. Just as it was nearing the final few yards, she heard a shout of, “hold the lift!” behind her, and the tell-tale whoosh of flying snow, as a figure swept in-front of the lift, one gloved hand shooting out to grab the bar of the chair, using it as a grip to swing into the seat and land with a heavy thump, just as they crossed the edge of the cliff, the ground falling away into misty darkness below. The impact set the chair swinging precariously, its motion mimicking the lurch of Felicity’s stomach as she struggled to maintain her composure - a feat that was considerably harder when dangling three hundred feet in the air with someone who obviously had a death wish. Gritting her teeth, Felicity turned to glare at the mad-man in question, hoping the pink woollen hat she wore wouldn’t detract from the irritable scowl she was going for. Unfortunately, she had no idea as to the effect of her death glare, as the miscreant’s face was covered by a hat and ski mask, leaving all but his piercing blue eyes concealed. Those entrancing azure pools were enough, however, to keep Felicity quiet long enough for him to give her what she assumed to be an apologetic glance - or a quirk of one defined eyebrow as it were.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, his voice muffled by the cloth covering his mouth. A shame really, Felicity imagined it would be a very nice mouth. Both of those eyebrows shooting upwards quickly informed her that yes, she had indeed blurted that out loud.  _Frack_. She barely had time to scramble out a hasty apology, before a sudden, gut wrenching screech of metal had them stuttering to a halt, the chair lift lurching perilously from where it hung suspended, now stationary, but for a gradual, back and forth swing. Felicity let out a squeak of alarm, her left hand shooting out to grab the arm rest in a white knuckled grip, whilst the other latched on to something warm and solid. Neither did much to calm her, as the ground loomed threateningly three hundred feet below, serving to remind Felicity in full force just how much of a terrible idea this holiday had been; sending someone up a mountain with the intention of plummeting straight back down on a pair of oversized flippers hadn’t seemed like the best of ideas in the first place, especially when that particular someone happened to be blood chillingly, scream inducingly, heart stoppingly afraid of heights. 

 _Heights_  being a barely powerful enough word to describe the jagged canyon that beckoned below. Distantly, a part of Felicity recognised that she may or may not be panicking, whilst the other half of her subconscious seemed to be far too occupied with screaming, crying, occasionally praying, and pretty much doing every action possible to define the word ‘panic’. She was going to die. She was going to plummet to her death in this rusty metal container with nothing rocks and snow to break her fall. At least the ice would preserve her body, and hopefully she would miss most of the rocks and avoid dismemberment in the process - she didn’t want the coroners to go to too much hassle in reassembling the broken Felicity pieces in time for the funeral. And of course, her mother would have to-

A solid hand on her arm jolted Felicity from her hasty funeral planning, a pair of burning blue eyes swimming into focus before her as she gasped for breath, each burst of inhaled air freezing to ice in her lungs then fracturing, the jagged shards ripping at her insides.

“ _Hey.._ ” a warm voice settled against her senses, spreading over her like a blanket, beginning to thaw the ice within. “I need you to take a deep breath, can you do that?” Felicity jerked a nod, his voice sparking something that loosened the icy terror clamping around her chest, long enough for her to draw a stuttered breath in, lungs working hard to obey his request. “And out.” She released, her entire body seeming to deflate as the air slowly left her, the panic freezing her veins beginning to ebb with its passing. “Good.” Came his soft voice, the terror fogging her vision receding enough for Felicity to make out the soothing smile that spread across his now uncovered face, bringing into focus the hard line of his jaw and the..wow.

“You’re really hot.” She blurted.  His smile spread, head tilting to the side in a confused grin that had the breath rushing from her lungs for a completely different reason. “I mean..uh.. _warm!_  Your body is really warm - like, if I were a penguin I’d totally situate myself next to you in the huddle.  _Not_  that I’m suggesting we should huddle for warmth! I mean, it would conserve energy but you’re pretty much a human heater anyway, plus I doubt you’d want to cuddle with me, I mean we barely know each other and I’m pretty sure I’m giving off the ‘crazy stalker’ vibe that would make someone most definitely  _not_  want to cuddle. Not that I’m a stalker, I just tend to let my mouth-” She was cut off by the low rumble that burst from his chest, a short huff of sound that had his shoulders shaking, dimples forming at the corners of his mouth as he laughed. Though in differing circumstances Felicity would have found the sound attractive, all it did now was feed the fire burning in her cheeks, and all of a sudden she was  _too_ warm. She hung her head, burrowing further into her padded coat with a groan of embarrassment.

“Are you okay?” He questioned, once his chuckles had subsided.

“Perfect.” Felicity mumbled, sinking further down on the seat. “I mean, if I don’t die of mortification first, at least this death trap will put me out of my misery, right?”

“You’re not going to die. I’m sure it’s just a lift malfunction.”

Felicity poked her head out of her coat long enough to direct him with a withering look, dulled only slightly by the flush still high on her cheeks.

“You realize that ‘malfunction’ means it’s not supposed to happen? Like, on the spectrum of words you want to hear when dangling three hundred feet above rocks in a metal cage,  _that_  is not one of them.”

“Well, at least if I die, it’ll be in pleasant company.” He responded, somehow managing to sound not the least bit ridiculous. How  _that_  was fair, Felicity had no idea. “Plus, the conversation is interesting to say the least.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, “you’re just saying that because we’re trapped in the middle of a canyon and you have no other option but to talk to me.”

“On the contrary, I find you refreshing, and, were we not about to plummet to our deaths, I’d be buying you a drink.”

Felicity stilled, her eyes flicking to the drop below, their present circumstances coming back in a sudden rush. Her mouth worked in a gulp, “So you do?” she murmured, and at his questioning glance, continued, “Think we’re going to die here, I mean.” Her gaze remained locked fearfully on the abyss below their feet, hands once again tightening on the seat, before her head was tilted up suddenly by a pair of warm fingers under her chin.

“Hey, hey, we’re going to be  _fine_ , you hear me?” His face was close, gaze boring earnestly into her own, fingers heated against her chin as he cupped her face in his palm. She nodded mutely, feeling the steady heat of his gaze settle against her senses, once again dulling her fear, until it was a mere annoyance, swallowed up by the solid presence of _him_  surrounding her. She’d never felt like this before, like she could trust someone so honestly and wholeheartedly as she did in that moment. It was breathtaking and terrifying all at once, and Felicity couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling it too. The slight hitch in his breathing told the same, the flick of his eyes to her lips mirroring her own intentions, as she leaned in, nose brushing against his own, lips barely a whisper away. She could feel the heat radiating off him, hear the harsh intake of his breath as he moved those final few inches to-

The sudden clang of the metal had them both jolting back, only to be thrown further by the abrupt lurching of the lift as it juddered into motion, making steady headway once again towards its destination. Felicity breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the lift station came in to view, only slightly dulled by the twinge of disappointment at their interruption.  _Of all the times to be rescued…_  A furtive glance at her partner revealed his own displeasure, his clenched jaw and hard eyes sending a surge of hope shooting through Felicity. Maybe she wasn’t the only one annoyed at the disturbance. She opened her mouth to voice just that, when he spoke,

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, turning to look at her, and Felicity’s heart sank. Of  _course_  he wasn’t interested. He was probably just caught up in the heat of the moment, life or death situation and all that, she could hardly blame him. “I shouldn’t have been so callous before.” At her frown, he continued, “When I mentioned plummeting to our death, that was me trying to ask you out,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “Sending you into a panic attack wasn’t exactly my intention - I guess I need to work on my game.”

Felicity gawked. He was serious. Mr chisel-jawed, blue-eyed beauty was actually asking her out on a date? Like an actual date. Like, a date-date. After she’d mentioned  _huddling like penguins_  and proceeded to imply that she was a crazy stalker? And he wanted to subject himself to more of her ramblings? Felicity was so gobsmacked by his offer, that she failed to notice she had been sitting there for a good minute, simply staring, mouth working soundlessly, overwhelmed by the utter shock of his sentiment. Upon noticing, however, she quickly replied, “Yeah, you do.. Need to work on your game, I mean.” His face fell immediately, eyes shuttering, shoulders hunching in defeat. In contrast, a slow smile spread across Felicity’s face, a buzzing excitement beginning to crackle in her veins, in her heart, and she knew that this was the beginning of something special. She grinned. “Good thing I can help with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hey Holls, what's a mother have to do to get a "Stuck on a ski lift au"?


	7. Six line Prompts #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: OLIVER!!!! Of your going to leave any bite marks make sure it's not visible!!!  
> (Just a quickie!)

Oliver’s head rose, his mouth releasing her neck with a wet pop that had Felicity groaning, her head slamming back against the soft mattress beneath her, eyes flickering shut, before flicking open to revealing striking blue eyes, dark with lust, and a little bit of anger as she glared up at the man above her. His lips twitched up into a sinful smirk, blown pupils locking with her own in a heated clash of passion as he slowly tensed his forearms, lowering himself down until his scruff brushed her cheek, its rough texture scratching delightfully against her skin. Her breath hitched in her chest, as his lips whispered against the satiny skin, tracing patterns over her cheek, down jaw and back to her neck, where his tongue darted out to soothe the reddening bruise that adorned it.   
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her skin, tongue trailing lower to dip in the hollow of her collarbone, tasting the salty skin there.   
“You don’t..ah..sound very apologetic.” Felicity bit out, her breath hitching slightly as his teeth nipped at her, laving her skin with abandon.   
“Hmm..” he hummed, the sound vibrating against her chest deliciously, before he raised dark eyes to her own, his chin resting against her collarbone, below the mark his teeth had left. “Is this low enough? Will it show here?”   
His eyes danced with mirth, filled with a mischief that fuelled the passion that flamed within his gaze, to which Felicity responded, her entire body seeming to vibrate with tension, filling her veins with a burning desire.   
“Little lower.” She murmured, a breathy whisper that caused Oliver’s smile to widen, spreading into a filthy grin that spoke thousands of words, each of them dirty.   
“I was hoping you’d say that.”


	8. Six line Prompts #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Felicity, WHAT is going on with you? You're acting strange...

She giggled, a high noise that burst from her throat and echoed about the cold foundry, instantly filling it with a warmth that Oliver felt resonate within his very soul. She sauntered towards him - or, at least...tried to, her hips swaying seductively for a couple seconds, before her feet became tangled, and she yelped, staggering forwards to crash into Oliver’s chest, forcing a muffled grunt from his mouth. Oliver’s hands shot up to rest against her arms, his eyebrows shooting up in consternation, but she seemed to have recovered instantly, pressed against him as she was, every soft curve fit against solid muscle, as she shifted tighter against him and ran one lacquered fingernail down his chest. He gulped.  
“I’m not strange, you’re strange.” She lilted, her words slurring together slightly, each vowel tripping off the next in a languid rhythm that sounded somewhat..off. Oliver frowned, mouth dropping open slightly as he stared down at her, eyes drifting over the flutter of her lashes, the paleness of her eyes and the slight flush that warmed her cheeks.  
“Felicity, are you..drunk?”  
“Maaaaybe.” She mumbled, pressing up on her tiptoes, her body sliding against his as she rose, sending an uncontrollable shudder down his spine. Her arms looped around his neck, fingertips playing at the soft, downy hairs at his nape, whilst her plump pink lips brushed against his ear in a sinful whisper,  
“Care to join me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please, please, please leave a comment or feedback, that stuff is air to a writer's lungs and it keeps the muse plugging away. Feel free to drop me your own prompt at cityofolicity.tumblr.com!


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